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Everything they say about parenthood is true - it's hard, it's tiresome, it'll make your hair fall out, it makes you wanna do drugs to varying degrees (not a suggested coping method BTW), and it's stupid amounts of fun.
Today was all of those things.

My three year old son is a monster. He's a beast. Smartest and coolest cat on the block. Of course I feel that way, I'm his father. I love him to death.

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But for some reason, today he wanted to test that love by dropping nice biological deuces in his drawls in rapid succession as he was going to bed.

He's 3 for Christ's sake, I know. But he knows better. And he doesn't do this all day while he's in school - nope. For the last few days, he's been saving up his daily gifts to present them only after his nighttime ritual and being tucked soundly in his bed. [sidenote - he's been potty trained since he first turned 2, so he's got a a year's worth of successful practice under his belt - check out my wife's post on the awesome potty training method she used]

So tonight after his second "accident" of the evening, I didn't get upset with him. We simply had a nice heart to heart around where it's appropriate to lay down his burdens.

"Where are you supposed to poop?" I asked.

"In toy-let," he responded as he pointed to the correct object in the room.

"Exactly. Give me a high five."

"I no go poop in underwear, Daddy."

"Thanks man. It's all good, because I know you'll go to the toilet to poop from now on. And if you need help, or feel sick, just call me, okay? I'll come help anytime. No worries."

[hugs and squeezes]

"I sorry, Daddy."

"Like I said, no worries, man."

After tucking him back in and closing his bedroom door, I promptly begin to hear banging and other noises not associated with the genuine attempt of sleep. Walking back in his room, he's reading a book amidst a new awful smell. A little further inspection confirms the worst - 3rd poop in new underwear in under 30 mins.

On the inside, I wanted to scream.

"This little child is like really fucking with me! He really thinks I'm just gonna wipe up his shit for the remainder of the night, and be okay with this?! FUCK THAT. He's got another thing coming. Gotta train him up early before he's 8 and still shittin in his Flash underwear waiting for me to come wipe his ass!"

Thoughts only.

What I said, after a about a 5 second pause, "C'mon, Daddy will help you, but you gotta go clean yourself up now, okay."

"Okay, Daddy."

I still felt like breaking out the hookah and coffee afterwards though. I know he's only doing it to prolong his bedtime, but I need him to come up with a better manipulation tactic.

The JOYs

On the flip side, we at chicken together, watched the Lego Movie (which is pretty sweet if you haven't seen it yet), wrestled, had bath time, and read books all night. Pretty damn sweet.

It was also a day of new firsts, which I'm quickly beginning to learn that I live for.

As he was putting on his PJ's for bed, he looked up and noticed I had something on my nose.

"Daddy, your nose is dirty. You need napkin. Wait here. Don't move."

"Okay."

[he walks out of the room and returns with toilet paper]

In the most gentle way, he uses the toilet paper to wipe my face, then says, "Feel better, Daddy?"

"I feel much better. Thank you."

"Your welcome, Daddy."

Crazy. That's my boy.

He also decided he wanted to read me all the books of the evening. No, he can't quite read yet, but damn if he's not trying. My three year old is trying to freakin' read books to me. How cool is that?

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Like I said, he's the coolest cat on the block - which makes me the luckiest.

I just don't wanna clean so much shit out of so much cotton such a regular basis, but that's Parenthood.

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UPDATE: Waking my son up this morning, he hugged me and said, "Daddy, I no go poop, see!"